


More Than Anyone Bargained For

by TheImmortalTrio, WriteNotFight



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Bad child-rearing, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7311175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheImmortalTrio/pseuds/TheImmortalTrio, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteNotFight/pseuds/WriteNotFight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton has decided to obtain a child! Thank God Aaron Burr is there to make sure the kid survives into adulthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're an Orphan? I'm an Orphan!

When Alexander Hamilton was appointed Secretary of the Treasury, he imagined standing at the head of the table in a big room, passionately delivering speeches that would knock the cabinet off its feet, and have everyone rushing to agree with him and make his ideas happen. Taking a look around the table at a cabinet meeting today, Hamilton realized his fantasy couldn't have been more off track. There was James Madison trying to pull the hair of some lower official out over a dispute on economic policy. At the far end of the room, some general chaos and minor wrestling was occurring between the Secretary of War and the Speaker of the House, who wasn’t even supposed to be present. And at the head of the table was Washington, poor man, hitting his head repeatedly on the wood. Alex sighed and groaned; the meeting hadn't even technically begun yet, and he didn't know what it was supposed to be about. When he had walked in just a minute ago, all of the excitement had already begun, leaving Hamilton no opening to insert his opinion and join the fray. Hamilton was bored, and about ready to force his way into an argument when he felt a pair of eyes boring into him from the other end of the table. When he turned he was met with the sneering face of none other than Thomas Jefferson.  _ Perfect.  _ Just as Alexander opened his mouth to spout some insults and possibly profanity, Washington jumped up and yelled, “ALL OF YOU, SHUT UP!” 

Everyone snapped to attention, the ruffled Speaker of the House quietly slipping from the Secretary of War’s clutches and scurrying out the door. Washington heaved a sigh, relieved at the silence, and sat back down. “Thank you. Now, I called you all here because I need someone to go to the New York orphanage and do a little public appearance. Talk to the kids, let a reporter take a picture of you and Miss Schuyler shaking hands, so on. So who-”

“I'll do it!” Hamilton yelled as he jumped up and ran for the door eagerly.

“Alexander wait, let me explain!”

“No need, I love the children and that's all there is to it!”

 

\----------------------------------------------------

 

_ This is heaven. _ That was all Hamilton could think as he walked through the halls of the orphanage, stopping every child that passed him to converse, ask questions, and just generally fawn over each one. He had already talked to Eliza and a couple reporters, so he had been released to do as he pleased. After talking to a young girl who was “so excited that she could finally make friends and have a home”, Hamilton sighed happily and leaned against the wall, unaware of a little head topped with black hair peeking out of an adjacent doorway to watch him.

_ This really is remarkable… All of these kids, orphans like me, but none of them will have it as god awful as I did. They'll have shelter, food, a chance at getting a real family. I wish I had gotten the chance to help Eliza more with getting it started, but of course Washington would pile up the work right when preparations were going underway. I got here though, finally. The look on his face when I got up and made a break for the door- priceless!  _

_ “ _ Excuse me?” The new voice startled Hamilton, and he looked around before his gaze settled on the skinny little boy to his right, expression softening.

“How can I help you?” Alexander bent down a little to talk to him.

“Why were you making that face?”

“What face?”

“You were smiling really big and silly and staring at nothing.” The boy said matter-of-factly.

Alex stared blankly at the boy for a moment, before chuckling. “I'm sorry, I'm just very happy that this place exists.”

Curious dark eyes peered up at him. “Why?”

“Because,” Hamilton sat against the wall, patting the space beside him and waiting for the boy to sit before continuing. “I'm an orphan too. And back in the Caribbean, I didn't have a place like this- I was alone. So I'm glad that you, and everyone else who comes here, won't be.”

The boy smiled and laughed, then concisely schooled his expression into seriousness. He held out his hand. “I'm Ajay Williams. It's nice to meet you.”

Hamilton smiled gently- a smile that most would say was grossly out of character, but most people hadn't seen him surrounded by children who also happened to be orphans- and shook his hand. “Alexander Hamilton. It's my pleasure, Mr. Williams. You know, you are possibly the most polite kid I have ever met.”

Ajay beamed up at Alexander. “Thank you! My mother taught me how to be polite, and before she got really sick on the ship over to America, she told me that I should always treat people nicely.”

Alexander tried not to let his shock or pity show on his face, since the boy obviously wasn't distressed at the moment, and instead just forced another smile. “Where did you say you came from?”

“I didn't say, but I'm from Nevis.”

“Really?” Suddenly all Alexander could see when he looked into Ajay's eyes was himself as a child, huddled in a small room alone with what was left of his mother after their sickness. “So am I.” 

Ajay tilted his head. “Are you alright, Mr. Hamilton? You look a little sad. I like it better when you smile.”

Alex mentally shook himself and patted Ajay's knee. “Yes, I'm just fine. You just remind me of myself, a lot. And you don't have to call me Mr. Hamilton, call me Alex.” 

“Okay Mr. Alex. Can I ask you a question? Miss Schuyler said that if I was good I might get adopted and have a real home, with a family! Did you get a home when you moved here? “

Alex smiled sincerely as he thought of Mulligan, Laurens, and Lafayette, who were essentially his family and had been since they met. _ I'm sure that's not the kind of family he was talking about, but I'd rather not upset him over technicalities.  _ “Yes. I did find a home here. “

Ajay beamed again and was about to respond when another little boy came running around the corner and called breathlessly, “Ajay! Ajay! Come on, it's dinner time, we have to be in the cafeteria now!”

Ajay jumped off the wall and quickly hugged Hamilton, who laughed and ruffled his hair. “Go on, don't be late.”

“Thank you Mr. Alex! I hope I see you again!”

“I'm sure you will.”

The boy laughed and started to run after his friend, but suddenly stopped at the corner and turned around, looking almost frightened as he spoke. “Mr. Alex, do you think I'll find a family?”

Hamilton was quick to smile and reassure Ajay. “Absolutely. I don't doubt it at all.”

Ajay grinned, then turned and looked around the corner, almost running over Eliza Schuyler as she stepped into view. “Andrew, be careful! Don't run please!”

“It's Ajay, Miss Schuyler, and yes ma'am!”

Eliza sighed and turned to Hamilton, smiling as he stood up and have her a hug. “Thank you so much for coming. The children love you, Alexander.”

“It was no problem, really, I enjoyed it very much.”

“I see you met Andrew?”

Hamilton laughed, “Actually, he told me his name is Ajay, is that a nickname?”

Eliza sighed and looked tired all of a sudden. “No. His name is Ajay, but we'd like him to assimilate a little more- so we’ve been trying to get him to go by Andrew.”

“Why would you try to take away a part of his heritage as integral as his _ name?”  _ Alexander was indignant, and bordering on irate. “Eliza, that's ridiculous, you can't seriously think it's a good idea.”

“Relax, Alexander. We aren't going to. As you've seen, he refuses to give up the name Ajay. I don't think it's worth the fight; when I asked he said he was proud of where he came from, and wouldn't change his name for anything. He’s got some fire.”

_ That's it. I'm done for. I have to have that child.  _ “Haha, that's great, listen Eliza, I was just wondering exactly what procedure one would have to follow in order to legally procure one of your orphans.”  _ Smooth. She won't suspect a thing. _

Eliza's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “Well, there's a lot of paperwork up at the front desk, home visits, stuff like that. Why, exactly?”

Alex shrugged. “Oh, no reason. Just curious.”  _ Shit, she's on to me. _

Eliza shook her head and gave a long, suffering sigh. “Alexander. I realize you love the children, and that you're probably a very sad, lonely man-”

“I resent that-”

“Oh hush. You know it's true. But, you are, frankly, a single, disorderly, easily distracted workaholic with little to no filter, and let's not forget that when you start to write you neglect everything else for hours on end. You can't adopt Ajay, I'm sorry.”

Hamilton's face fell and he looked at the ground, silent for a moment.  _ Damn it, I should've known it wouldn't be that easy. Oh well, I've never given up before.  _

“You're right, Eliza,” Alex spoke slowly. “My situation as of right now is not a great environment for a child, and I- Oh who am I kidding I have to have that kid! “ And before Eliza could blink, Alexander Hamilton was running through the halls of the orphanage screaming for someone to bring him the  _ gosh dang  _ paperwork.


	2. You Cried, It Broke My Heart

“Alexander, I’m surprised at you.” Eliza hissed the words through her teeth, and her tone seemed gentle compared to her painful death grip on Alex’s arm. The pair was standing on the front steps of the orphanage, closer together than Alex would have preferred. Eliza was glaring at him like he just threw a baseball at a very expensive vase. “You come here for a quick photo op and a look around, but instead of behaving like a government official, you run down the hallway screaming…”

“Ha! If you think that was screaming, you should hear our cabinet mee-”

Eliza cut him off by intensifying her grip on Alex’s arm, which he hadn’t even thought was possible. “This. Is. Not. A. Joke,” she said, gripping tighter with every word. Alex bit his lip to keep from crying out in pain. “You grabbed Andrew from behind while he was eating dinner, threw him over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes, ran halfway down the street, almost got hit by a bus-”

“Ajay, you mean?” Alex croaked. 

Eliza’s face contorted into an even more horrible expression, an intense combination of confusion and rage. “What?”

“The boy you so lovingly refuse to give a father and a home? His name is Ajay. Not Andrew. At least get his name right.”

Eliza was silent for a moment. Then she sighed and released Alex’s arm.

Alex let out a breath, relieved.

“Sorry,” Eliza said. “Ajay. You're right, of course. But that doesn't change the fact that you are not suitable to adopt at this point. I know it, and if you actually took some time to think before you went trying to kidnap a child, you’d realize it, too.”

“I wasn't trying to kidnap him,” Alex pointed out bitterly. “I was giving him a new start.”

“He needs a family, Alexander. Not a single man who at certain times would rather starve than take a break from writing.” 

“Can’t I at least fill out the papers?”

“You can't, because even if you pass every official test, I will personally ensure that you do not get custody of Ajay.”

“That's not fair!”

“So go write an essay about it. In the meantime, you’re not allowed through the doors of this establishment ever again.”

The conversation, Alex knew, was over. It took all the energy he had left to resist stomping away from the orphanage like a little boy who didn't get the Nerf gun he wanted. That’s okay, he thought, I’ll show her. Alexander Hamilton does not take no for an answer. 

In the following days, one question consumed Alex: how the hell was he going to get a kid? Through tedious, chaotic meetings, on lonely walks to his apartment in the dark, and even while drafting a few very important documents defending the United States constitution, he thought of Ajay and the dozens of other children without homes. The children who were really just like him. He devised plan after plan, from breaking into the orphanage by scaling the side of the building, to figuring out the kids’ schedules and casually grabbing one while they were on one of their routine excursions to the movies. But at the end of the day, all of Alex’s plots sounded silly. He could end up arrested, for God’s sake, and extraneous legal trouble was the last thing he needed with the political climate being as cutthroat as it was. 

Alex finally took to an embarrassing strategy that was totally beneath him and definitely proved he was desperate: he sat outside the orphanage for a couple of hours after work every night, waiting for a miracle. He would bring a notebook and a pen, and work right there on the cold concrete of the orphanage steps. It wasn't much different than working at home anyway. The complete lack of Internet or familiar distractions helped him focus, and the bluish light from a nearby street lamp was enough to write by. He even penned a few particularly biting essays in which he insisted that he would make a fantastic parent; those papers he shoved under the front door for Eliza to read, but if she ever did read them, Alex never received a response. 

A month passed, a month of waiting and hoping and writing, and daydreaming through meetings, and mustering all the stubbornness a human being could feasibly muster. Nothing happened. No miracle. On his thirtieth day sitting on the steps of the orphanage, Alexander Hamilton began to accept temporary defeat. 

Maybe I can try a different orphanage, he thought. In a different city, where not as many people think I’m crazy. If I ask around enough, fill out enough paperwork, someone has to say yes eventually. I can't just give up. 

Disappointed in his failure but satisfied with his plan, Alex stood up. He would walk home right now, and begin to research orphanages. 

But just as he was about to leave, a shrill sound stopped him in his tracks. Alex heard… Was that… sobbing? 

Then he saw it: a thin figure in black sweatpants and a baggy hoodie was fast approaching the orphanage. Without thinking, Alex dove into the bushes next to the doorstep. 

The sound got louder, piercing the still of the night as well as Alex’s eardrums. There was no mistaking it anymore: it was a baby’s cry, scared and wet. Alex peeked only his eyes out of his hiding spot. The dark figure was leaving an equally dark bundle on the steps. Before Alex had time to discern even whether the person was male or female, they were gone. 

The baby kept wailing. 

Alex didn't have time to think. His miracle was here, but Eliza would show up any second to ruin it. So he stumbled out of the bushes, wrapped his arms around the crying bundle, and ran as fast as his legs could carry him back to his apartment. 

His notebook and pen remained on the steps, forgotten in the heat of the moment.


	3. Domestic Life Was Never Quite My Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hamilton has obtained his baby, let's see if they can survive the night together... Phillip definitely won't make it easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy some Alexander parenting fails in this chapter, but don't worry, next up it's Aaron Burr to the rescue!

“Aw, look at how cute you are! Do you even have the ability to comprehend it? You could rule the world with that face!” A long gurgling laugh answered Alexander's statement, accompanied by a smile and a small squeal when he playfully tickled the baby's sides.

Alexander had gone straight back to his apartment after picking up his new baby, only pausing once to wrap it in his jacket. Once he had gotten home, he got straight to the most important part of child rearing- cooing at and coddling the adorable little bundle. The apartment was covered in all manner of papers, empty bags and bottles, and pens that had run out probably months ago, Alex wasn’t quite sure. The couch, where the baby was now laid down, was mercifully only half covered in sticky notes cramped with Hamilton's feverish writing. The baby (Alex hadn't had the sense yet to check the gender of the child) was swaddled in Alex’s jacket and squirming on the couch, making happy little noises as Hamilton played with its tiny hands and generally made a fool out of himself.

“I can't wait to teach you how to crawl, and walk, and ride a little bike, and write, and win an argument, and thrive in the cutthroat American political scene- when should I start you in debate class? Is four too early? You'll be talking by then so I'd imagine not… Oh! I should get a camera to keep track of all our special moments, but I guess a phone will have to do for now, I need footage of those adorable little giggles!” 

Alex jumped up and ran back to the entryway, leaving the child alone on the couch, to grab his phone from a tray by the door.  _ I wonder what I should tag this photo… I obviously can't post it anywhere, but still- “SHIT!”  _ The phone fell to the ground, momentarily forgotten, as Alex dove just in time to catch the baby as it wiggled off the edge of the couch. He lay there, bundle cradled to his chest, for about a minute trying to catch his breath. Just as the frenzied pounding of his heart began to slow, Alex noticed that his jacket was rather unpleasantly wet. “Oh no… You've got to be kidding me.”

Jumping up and holding the baby awkwardly away from him, Alex ran into his bathroom and pulled his jacket away, letting it sit on the tile floor. He quickly laid the child in his tub and leant over to inspect the damage. The bottom half of the little onesie the baby was wearing was completely soaked, and the kid had started to cry loudly, face going red. Hamilton sighed and stroked the baby's head to try and soothe it. “Well, I didn't like that jacket anyways. No worries, little buddy- we'll get you out of that and cleaned up and nice and warm, okay?” 

Trying not to mind the squish of the fabric as he undid the inconveniently placed buttons, Hamilton quickly stripped the baby of its ruined clothes. “No wonder, you don't even have a diaper on! But, wow. I have a son… I guess you need a name?” The baby, a boy as Alex now knew, was still crying pitifully in the tub. Alexander reached out to stroke the tiny face with his index finger and smiled, “How about… Philip?” The boy quieted almost instantly, eyes still red with unshed tears, and looked almost inquisitively at Hamilton. 

Alex grinned, ecstatic that he had managed to quiet Phillip’s first crying episode so simply, and was reaching down to gather the soiled article of clothing when something warm and wet started to hit his arm, soaking into his long sleeves and dripping downward.

Philip gurgled happily and waved his fists as his new father, Alexander Hamilton, stared in horror at his shirt and possibly, not that he'd ever admit it, went through his first crying episode in a long time.

\---------------------------

After a good cleaning for both boys accomplished with wet wipes, the bath only being forgone because the water was running too hot today for even Alex to handle, Hamilton was faced with the conundrum of how to prevent another, ‘leaking’, incident. Philip was once again laid on the couch, this time with a small pillow sitting on the edge to  _ probably _ block his escape to the floor, while Hamilton walked around his apartment muttering to himself, as per the norm. “Let's see, paper- no, I need all those, writing plans, um, plastic bags no, ooh! That dishrag, but one probably isn't enough, I should grab at least two more, better coverage, less chance of leaking.” 

The man re-entered the room with three Christmas themed dishrags and a roll of duct tape, and swept the sticky notes off of the other half of the couch onto the floor. “Aw, I hope you aren't cold Phillip, I've just gotta get you fixed up in these towels and then we can go to bed, and tomorrow we'll get you some diapers and baby food and everything.” 

Phillip made the process of assembling the makeshift diaper ridiculously difficult, wiggling and kicking his legs, while Alex cursed and tried to grab the flailing limbs to no avail. Finally, after a solid ten minutes of Alex struggling and Phillip laughing, Phillip was duct taped into his towels and Alex was only slightly frustrated. As he leaned back and closed his eyes, holding Phillip close to him, his stomach made a rather loud noise of protest to the thought of going to sleep on the couch without any sustenance. Alex laughed and stood, kissing a sleepy Phillip on the forehead and walking into his kitchen. He looked around for a moment as he munched on leftover fried before his eyes landed on the fridge. “Milk.” 

By the time he had the gallon of milk and a cup sitting on the counter Hamilton realized there was a problem. There was no way Phillip could drink out of that. He had another one of his wonderful epiphanies and spent five minutes searching through drawers until at last he found it- the turkey baster that Laurens kept forgetting to take back home with him. Hamilton slowly fed Phillip his milk drop by drop, the poor boy not realizing that sucking on the baster wasn't going to help him in the slightest, before taking a seat at the small table and sighing. This would take quite a while.

\-------------------------------------

It was late in the evening when Alexander finally managed to get himself and Phillip ready for bed, the boy falling asleep almost as soon as Alex set him down on a pillow on his bed. Alex couldn't help the giddy feeling in his stomach as he watched Phillip sleep, paired with an adoration so strong you'd think Alex were Phillip's father.  _ Which I am,  _ he reminded himself happily.

Alexander sighed, content, as he plopped down beside Phillip and pulled a blanket over both of them, speaking quietly into the darkness. “I hope that you'll like it here, Phillip. I promise tomorrow we'll go get you some real diapers, and toys! Maybe some fun little rattles… You'll have a blast. We just can't let Eliza find out about you, because you're my little miracle, and I know she'd ruin it as soon as she knew. But we'll prove to her that I can take care of you; although, I shouldn't worry about that right now. That's a problem for tomorrow." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheImmortalTrio here! WriteNotFight is out for a few days y'all, and the next chapter is theirs, so it may be about a week instead of a half week for the next update. No worries though, we'll communicate and make sure it's up as soon as possible!


	4. Aaron Burr, Sir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Phillip's savior, Aaron Burr!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WriteNotFight is out enjoying nature and getting a chaco tan, so this chapter is unedited as well... But hopefully there aren't too many errors left! Enjoy!

“I just don't understand it, Madison! The man is nonstop- and yet, for the past few weeks, he's barely argued in the meetings, he gave concessions to you and Jefferson, he hasn't published an angry pamphlet or letter, and he looks like death warmed over twice!”

Aaron was prevented from continuing by a rather exasperated James Madison. “Yes, Aaron, I know. Hamilton has been acting strange, but maybe he's just decided he needs to calm down a bit, you know, take a break, rela-”

“Alexander Hamilton would sooner die than take a break and you know it. Something's wrong, Madison.”

James stopped as the two had arrived at an intersection in the street and shook his head, sighing, “Look, Burr. Does Hamilton's silence affect you implicitly?”

“Well,” Burr sputtered, slightly taken aback, “no, it's just that-”

“Is it harmful to the state of our nation?”

“No, not exactly,” Burr conceded.

“Well then, Aaron, I say you leave it alone. You've spent the last two weeks practically obsessing over Alexander, it's getting to be a bit much.” He patted Burr on the shoulder and turned the corner. “Well, this is me. See you next week.”

Burr simply waved at his coworker and sighed, continuing on straight.  _ I suppose Madison is right- there's no need to worry this much about Alexander. No, I'm not worried, am I? Absolutely not. Worry implies a level of care that's too inappropriate for a co-worker who fucks me over at every turn. I'm merely concerned, yes, because if Hamilton drops dead there'll be an investigation and all sorts of intrusive questioning. Not convenient at all. And plus, if Alexander dies, who'll turn boring meetings into fun screaming matches that I can sit back and watch?  _ Aaron continued on in this way for a few minutes, and when he was almost to his apartment, happened to spot Alexander Hamilton walking down the street towards him.  _ Well speak of the devil. “ _ Alexander!” Burr yelled, but Hamilton’s only response was to immediately turn and start speed walking in the opposite direction.  _ What the hell? Why would he… Sweet Jesus wait… _ ”Holy shit is that a child? Hamilton, come back here right now you're holding it wrong! “

In fact, Alexander was carrying the baby over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the poor child bouncing slightly as he tried to walk faster. Unfortunately for Alex, Burr’s sprinting easily enabled him to catch up to Hamilton, and he did very quickly. Grabbing the shoulder without the baby, Burr turned Alexander around to face him. Burr panted out, “What the hell, Alexander. What exactly are you doing with that child?”

The man started to sputter and blushed fiercely, but Burr decided to ignore his show of incompetence in favor of correcting the way he was holding the mystery child. “Absolutely disgusting- have you ever held a child before? Cradle it like this, and keep the head supported you idiot!” Hamilton's blank stare only served to irritate Aaron further. *Don't look at me like that- you're going to kill that baby holding it draped over your shoulder!”

“I, uh,” Alexander was still flushed and looking curiously at the baby, now safely held to his chest. “Well, I've never really had the chance before, but thank you Aaron Burr, sir, I'll remember that. Well, gotta go,” Alex turned to leave, but it was useless as Burr once again grabbed his shoulder to keep him in place.

“Alexander, don't think just because correcting your holding technique was my first priority that I'm not curious about who that child is and where you got it, no matter how terrified I am off the answer.”

“His name is Philip,” Hamilton sighed as Phillip cooed happily from his new position. “And I got him from the orphanage, Eliza's orphanage.” 

Burr raised an eyebrow. “You got him? Do you mean you adopted him?”

Hamilton's blush deepened and he hurriedly replied, “Yes! Adopted, adopted. It's not like I stole him, that'd be just too crazy, even for me! Hahaha…”

Aaron's eyes narrowed dangerously.  _ I can't believe this man…  _ “You stole. A child. Fuck Hamilton, what were you thinking? “

“I didn't steal him! I adopted him, just like I said!"

In a flash, Burr had his phone out and was dialing Eliza's number. “Bullshit, Hamilton. I'm calling Eliza to tell her you stole a kid.”

“Burr, no!” Hamilton panicked and started to plead- If Burr hasn't been so concerned for the fate of Phillip he might've paused to videotape it. “You don't understand, I've been trying to get a kid for weeks, I can't give up Philip I just can't! I never had a family Burr, and now that I have the means to provide I feel like I just have to give these kids, these poor little kids who don't have anything just like I didn't, a way to escape from that awful life before they have to go through everything I did! “

“Hey, Eliza, it's Aaron, Aaron Burr. I'm here with Alexander and I'm a little concerned-”

**“Oh God, is he up to no good? About to storm the orphanage? I knew something was wrong when I didn't see him hanging around here for a whole minute-”**

“Aaron, Aaron, please. Please don't take Philip away from me.”

The look on Hamilton's face was the saddest, most desperate thing Burr had ever seen. That, paired with the fact that Alexander Hamilton had never before shown any sort of vulnerability quite like this heart-rending pain, meant that Aaron stood little chance. Burr sighed and responded to the frantic woman on the phone. “No, no, nothing like that. He’s just, about to fall over from lack of sleep. And I, ah, don't know how to get him home and out of my hair.”

**“Oh, oh.”** Eliza sounded incredibly relieved, and Burr felt only the smallest bit of guilt as Alex have him a great beaming smile that, strangely enough, made Burr want to smile as well.  **“Well that's no problem at all, then. His address is…”**

  
  
  
  


\---------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  
  


_ I can't believe that idiotic man thought that I would actually leave him to his own devices after discovering that he had basically kidnapped a child.  _ Aaron thought angrily to himself as he stalked off in the direction of the apartment Eliza had given him the address for earlier, now carrying bags upon bags of baby clothing, bottles, food, and other necessities. Like diapers. He was pretty sure that Phillip had been wrapped in dishrags underneath one of Hamilton's inexplicably stained hoodies.  _ I mean really. ‘Oh don't worry Aaron, I've totally got it! No problem- just gonna raise this tiny human being into adulthood, shouldn't be too difficult, lolz!’ He obviously has no idea what he's getting into. I'd better hurry up and get there before he, I dunno, tries to bathe this kid and ends up drowning him… Gee, that actually sounds plausible… _ “Don't worry Phillip, I'm coming to save you! “

By the time Burr arrived at the door to Alexander's apartment, he was red-faced and panting. Ignoring his body's demands for him to sit down and take a break, Aaron tried the door and, even though he was immensely alarmed when it turned out to be left unlocked, quickly walked inside. One look into the entryway was enough to give him a heart attack- there were papers everywhere, and pens with tiny, almost-but-not-quite-swallowable caps, not to mention the bags of food and glasses. Aaron groaned and set down his bags, about to go searching for Hamilton when he heard Phillip laughing from what seemed to be the living room. He rushed in and was greeted by the sight of Phillip laying on the floor, surrounded by trash, holding a rather large pair of scissors in his little fist. Aaron screamed at a rather high pitch, though he'd never admit, and swooped in, carefully removing the scissors and picking up the child. “ALEXANDER FUCKING HAMILTON GET IN HERE NOW!”

There was a loud crash and some muffled cursing from the kitchen area, and Alexander soon stumbled into the living room brandishing a knife in front of him. He looked surprised to see Aaron standing there, holding Phillip and tapping his foot impatiently. He say the knife down on a table. “Aaron Burr, sir, what are you doing here? How the hell did you get in!”

“Your front door was unlocked. And I brought some items like diapers and bottles and toys because I know you are sorely lacking any sort of baby care items.”

“W-well, uh, thank you. Now if you'll just hand me Phillip I think I can take it from here-”

“No way.” Burr walked back to the bags he left at the front door and started to rifle through them. “I decided when I walked right into your apartment and find Phillip here left alone, on your disgusting floor, playing with scissors,” here Hamilton inhaled sharply, “that I will be helping you get your act together before you accidentally kill him.”

Hamilton stared for a minute before grinning widely. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy, since you're going to help me raise Phillip?”

“No!” Burr hissed, blushing as he continued to dig through his bags.

“Aw,” Hamilton practically crooned, “would you rather me call you mommy?”

Aaron didn't respond, and instead threw an empty trash bag at Hamilton's face and smiled politely add he struggled to remove it from his person. “You will call me no such thing. What you will do is clean up every last piece of trash in this apartment. We're babyproofing all of this place right now.”

With only a little more argument and grumbling, and much dragging of feet, Alex had made his way back to the living room to start cleaning. Burr sighed and looked down at Phillip who playing with a new rattle, and being held properly for one. “Your ’father’ is quite the piece of work. Don't worry though, Phillip, we'll make this place safe and sound for you. Somehow. “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Burr had finally made his appearance! What do y'all think, who's mommy and who's daddy? Or do we have like a dad and a pops situation here? :D WriteNotFight will be back with your next two chapters soon!


	5. Let Me Offer You Some Free Advice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WriteNotFight here, back on ao3! *What'd I Miss begins to play*

If Aaron Burr had learned one thing about Alexander Hamilton, it was that the man was a complete genius - until he wasn’t. In the parts of life he was good at, Hamilton was never just good - he absolutely excelled, got famous and infamous and feared and loved and noticed. He knew everything about law. Despite being from some distant island, he had been so passionate about American independence that he fought in a war for it. He even hated with grandeur: he founded an entire newspaper for the sole purpose of chewing out his enemies. But when Hamilton didn't know something, he really didn't get it, as proven by his demonstrated incompetence when it came to things like social etiquette, fashion, and personal upkeep. 

And babies. Hamilton was so bad with Philip that Burr almost wondered if he was trying to murder the child, the murder weapon being pure stupid negligence. 

“Why are you crying?” Alexander asked Philip one day. This day was a Saturday, and even though Burr despised the situation, he had decided to stay at Alex’s apartment from dawn to dusk in an attempt to save Philip from certain death. It was only morning, and Aaron could see that he had a long day ahead of him.

“You can't just ask the kid why he’s crying!” Burr scolded. “He can't speak! Try checking if his diaper’s dirty.” 

Alexander scrunched his nose and squinted at Burr. “How do I do that?”

“Smell him, dumbass.”

“Hey! Stop swearing in front of Philip. I need to surround him with good, clean family fun.”

“Ah, how responsible. By clean family fun I assume you mean scissors and small plastic choking hazards.”

Philip’s crying was becoming more of a bloodcurdling scream. Hamilton was standing and rocking him hopelessly. He took a long sniff. 

“He doesn't smell like poop.”

“Then maybe he needs to be fed.”

“Oh. I hate when that happens.”

“Alexander… Please tell me you have milk to feed this baby. Please, God, tell me this child hasn't shared your diet of caffeinated drinks and false hope.” 

“I uh… I mean I gave him some Red Bull yesterday. Is that bad?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” 

“Stop swearing in front of-”

“I WILL STOP SWEARING WHEN YOU START PARENTING.” 

There was a short silence, during which Hamilton gaped at Burr and Phillip hiccuped once instead of screaming. 

Then Hamilton frowned and said, “Fine. I’ll go buy milk.”

As if on cue, Philip began to cry again.

Burr sighed. He was already getting a headache, and he hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. “And you understand that babies this young can’t drink cow’s milk,” he said. “There's a special section in the store for formula.”

“Really?” Hamilton asked, eyes wide. “Why? Is it vegan or something? Are babies lactose intolerant?”

Oh Hamilton. He really had no idea. Burr sighed again, willing himself to remain calm.

“Google it,” he told Alexander. “Then go buy that milk. And buy bottles too for God’s sake. In the meantime, I’ll take Philip.” 

Burr sat down in an armchair with the baby as Hamilton grabbed his wallet and scurried out of the room. Philip was still screaming; Burr thought wearily that this would be quite the noise to explain to the neighbors. In fact, Burr and Hamilton would probably have to outright deny there was a baby here, that or pretend the kid was some visiting nephew. There were too many issues with this situation, Aaron thought. The repercussions extended far beyond Hamilton having to learn to be a dad. The man would also have to hide this child (especially from Eliza) until it was ready to leave the house, unless he thought of a brilliant lie to cover up the fact that he stole a kid. And what about when Philip himself grew up and started asking questions? Hamilton would either have to lie to him about where he came from, or tell the truth and make him promise never to tell anyone else, lest his father be in serious trouble with the law. 

What a mess, thought Burr. What a shitty decision. And of all people, I'm the one who has to help clean it up. 

Burr bounced Phillip and rocked him and talked to him, but nothing worked. By the time Hamilton came back with the bottle and formula, Burr was ready to punch a wall. 

“He’s still crying?” Alexander asked as he walked into the apartment, arms full of grocery bags. 

“What does it sound like?” Burr responded flatly. “Did you get the stuff?”

Alexander smiled. “Oh, I got the stuff. I got lots of stuff! I found rattles, and teddy bears. Even some nice little outfits for when I take Philip to work!”

“I'm going to ignore that last sentence. Make the formula, will you?”

“Can't you do it? I don't know how.”

“There should be instructions on the box. Do exactly what it says - don't add or take away any steps.” 

It was perhaps the biggest surprise of Aaron’s life when Alexander came back with the bottle, and it looked and smelled exactly how it was supposed to. After examining the bottle for a minute, Aaron examined Alex himself. 

“You followed the instructions? You're a hundred percent sure you did nothing wrong?”

“It was easy,” Alexander boasted, as if not having trouble making baby formula was a huge triumph. 

“Alright,” said Aaron, “go ahead and feed him. I'll make sure the toys you bought are actually baby toys…” 

The day passed in a flurry of lessons learned and problems solved. At first, Burr felt like he was doing all the work, explaining everything to Hamilton. The situation was comparable to a home ec class: Burr was the teacher, and Hamilton was a deeply confused thirteen-year-old boy. But gradually, the dynamic shifted. Hamilton wasn't that slow of a learner, and he soon knew how to change a diaper, how to rock a baby, and that small, spit-covered fingers plus exposed electrical outlets equals NO. (Thanks to Burr, Hamilton did not have to learn all those things the hard way.) 

At about eight o’clock, Philip was finally asleep in the makeshift crib Hamilton had crafted out of chairs and pillows. Both men watched the peaceful baby in awe. Burr allowed himself to think for the first time that the kid was kind of cute. He had a little patch of dark hair, very tiny fingers that opened and closed around the air, and big brown eyes that gazed curiously at the world when they were open. In only a few years, Philip would be a walking, talking human. In a few more years after that, he would be learning about the inner workings of American politics. Then he could be a senator or a lawyer or an actor or whatever he wanted to be. Burr hoped with all his heart that Hamilton would be a good enough father to support this kid through all his problems and successes. 

As if reading Aaron’s mind, Alexander mused aloud, “He’s going to do great things someday, don't you think?”

“I'm sure he’ll blow us all away,” Aaron agreed. “But until then, we should probably get some sleep.”


	6. Rumors Only Grow

Only a week had passed since Burr first started giving his archrival advice on raising a child, but already the man was starting to feel like a parent. He was at Alexander’s apartment every day after work (and sometimes during work, when he was able to sneak out during lunch). He had become a total pro at changing diapers. And he was starting to really care about this ball of tears and innocence that he spent all his time protecting. Though Philip stressed Burr out and exhausted him on a regular basis, the kid was adorable. Sometimes, Philip even giggled. As a cautionary political measure, Burr generally shied away from taking firm stances publicly, but he would have published a paper right then on the capacity of babies’ giggling to improve a man’s disposition if it weren't for the illegality of Hamilton and Burr raising a kidnapped child. 

“He’s not a kidnapped child!” Alexander argued when Aaron told him about the theoretical paper. “I just took him from the street! He didn't belong to anybody.”

Aaron smiled. He knew Alexander’s crime was a serious matter, but it sounded like an elaborate joke whenever they discussed it. “You know what you did was illegal,” Burr said, “or you wouldn't be hiding it.”

“It’s just because of Eliza,” Hamilton pouted. 

“It's bigger than her. You know if this gets out…”

“My career will be done. I know, I know.” 

Hamilton and Burr were sitting on the rug by the fireplace. It had been a long day, both at work and with Philip. The reasonable functioning of the American government was hanging by a thread as usual, as Hamilton tried to convince Congress that his financial plan was worthwhile. Plus when Burr and Hamilton got back to the apartment, another near tragedy awaited them. The girl next door, who Hamilton payed good money to babysit Philip and keep quiet about it, had been practically in tears as she described how the baby got ahold of a broken beer bottle that Hamilton somehow forgot was lying in the corner of the kitchen. The two men had cleaned Philip’s scraped hand (and found that thankfully, the wounds were not deep enough to necessitate a doctor), and then proceeded to spend a good half hour yelling at each other. 

“Do you understand what could have happened? He could have-”

“Bled out and died? I realize that, Aaron! You act like this isn't traumatizing for me, too! I love him. I would never… You have to understand, I would never do anything to-”

“Not on purpose, you wouldn't. But negligence is going to be the death of that kid if you don't start taking parenting as seriously as you take money!”

“Money I'm comfortable with. Kids…”

“Are new. Well, I get that, but you also chose this responsibility, Alexander! I mean, a beer bottle? Really?”

“You didn't notice it either.”

“This isn't my apartment. You're lucky I'm even here.”

“If you don't want to be here, you can leave!”

“You know I couldn't do that to Philip. Ever.” 

And so the had argument had ended, basically, with Burr’s declaration that he would be staying for an infinite amount of time in Hamilton’s apartment. 

That was hours ago. Now, the odd couple sat by fire, talking about careers and crimes as the kidnapped child slept. What a life, Burr thought, and had to smile to himself at the insanity of all of it. 

Alexander asked why he had that content look on his face. Aaron shrugged. “Maybe for some strange reason my brain decided to be happy.” 

“I'm kind of happy right now, too,” Alexander laughed. The fire crackled and Aaron tried to soak in the softness of the moment: no yelling, no blood, no baby screams. Even Hamilton, the idiot, looked peaceful for once in his revolutionary life. His eyes were calm and bright, not calculating. His hair was slightly messy, but tucked behind his ears, framing his face. 

Then Alex turned his head so suddenly, making direct eye contact, that Aaron started.

“Hey,” Alexander said, “I was thinking…”

“What?” 

“You've been staying here a while and I just thought… I don't know, you always sleep on the couch. If you wanted to-”

“Uh, no,” Aaron laughed nervously. “I’m not sharing a bed with you. It would be way too awkward, I'm totally fine on the couch, no complaints at all-”

Aaron stopped when he realized Alex was laughing. “What?” 

“Aaron, I was only going to suggest we trade off. You would get the bed sometimes, I would get the couch.”

“Oh.” Aaron felt a flush creeping from his neck to his cheeks. “Of course. I mean, that's obviously what you meant.”

Alexander grinned mischievously. “Unless you'd like to share a bed. There’s certainly room for two…”

“Alex!” Aaron hissed, his face still hot. 

“Alright, alright. The two daddies sleep separately.”

So they did. And laying alone in Hamilton’s bed that night, Burr could only try not to smell the distinct musk of his political nemesis and co-parent on the sheets. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

Signs of a disastrous lack of self-care were the norm for Hamilton, so when the Secretary of the Treasury waltzed drunkenly into meetings running on three hours of sleep and five shots of espresso, Thomas Jefferson didn't bat an eye. But when Jefferson noticed Burr in a similar condition, he grew suspicious. Maybe it was a one time thing, he thought at first. And when it happened a couple more times, maybe Burr was having a rough couple of days. But when Burr’s strange bleary-eyed sleeplessness and tendency to stare out windows persisted through an entire week, Jefferson decided to do some investigating. Especially because, in addition to Burr’s weirdly dazed qualities, the man had been spending a lot more time consorting with Hamilton.

“Aaron Burr,” Jefferson said casually after one particularly arduous few hours debating the financial plan in Washington’s office. He caught Burr by the arm and spun him around so the two were face to face. 

Burr looked into Jefferson's eyes like he was looking directly at the sun. “Jefferson. What d’you want?” 

“Oh, nothing much. I'm just curious as to when Hamilton inducted you.”

“Inducted. Into… what, sir?”

“His cult,” said Jefferson, keeping his signature smooth, even tone. “You know, the one that preaches sleep is Satan and coffee is the one true God.” 

Burr had the good sense to smile, at least. “You know, I'm not surprised those are Alex’s religious beliefs.”

“Yes, and you’ve obviously begun to share them. Not to mention calling our dear Mr. Hamilton by his first name.”

At this observation, Burr flinched, and Jefferson smirked when he took note of it. He hadn't been paranoid, then. Something really was going on. 

The question was, what? A clandestine political alliance? A deeply disturbing affair involving exclusively late night hate sex? Or maybe one of those schemes where Hamilton tells a bunch of people to write essays on the same subject, a harrowing sequel to the Federalist Papers. 

Whatever it was, if both Burr and Hamilton were in it together, it was going to affect the entirety of American politics. The country was still small and young, fragile and struggling - there was no room for this kind of funny business. 

Jefferson pulled Burr closer and whispered, “What are you hiding? If you don't tell me, I swear to God I will find out myself.” 

“Nothing’s going on.” Burr’s voice is high-pitched and hesitant. “I'm tired… and I'm using Alexander’s first name because... I have no respect for him as a professional.” 

“You know, for a politician, you’re a pretty terrible liar.” 

Burr opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then closed it again. 

Now angry instead of smug, Jefferson let go of Burr and pushed him back with such force that the sleepy shell of a man almost flopped backwards into the floor. 

Burr blinked away the shock and found his voice. “I'm… telling the truth,” he sputtered. 

“You’re not,” Jefferson said. “But I'm not going to argue with you, I'm going to figure out what's really going on, and if I can, I'm going to ruin you in the process.” 

“Well… Have fun with that. I'm going home.” 

Burr turned and left, but Jefferson saw that his steps were staggered and his hands were shaking. 

I scared him to death just then, thought Jefferson. Well, just imagine how startled he’ll be when I end his political career...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell us in the comments whether you would join Alexander Hamilton's coffee cult! I know I would.


	7. In Loco Parentis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex is getting better, but the squad isn't all that helpful! Poor Burr, other characters always giving him heart attacks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheImmortalTrio here y'all! Just wanted to share that I absolutely love that line, in loco parentis, if anyone doesn't know a ton about the phrase and it's implications I strongly suggest you look into it!

“Aw! The little guy is so adorable…”

“Yeah! I want to hold him-”

“No, no, don't grab him, they're sleeping!”

“But Alex, I really wanna hold him…”

“Fine, fine. Just be careful not to wake him, he has no idea y'all are here.”

Aaron heard three voices all muffled and distant, as if there were copious amounts of cotton stuffed in his ears. Sleep started to claim him once more, and so it was especially irritating when a loud laugh cut through the fog. “Uuuuuurgh…. Alexander, shut the fuck up”

There was a chorus of laughter that caused Burr to groan and open his eyes, blinking away the blurriness. “HAMILTON WHAT THE HELL!” He really wished he had stayed asleep. There, never more than a foot away from his person, sat Hamilton, Laurens, and Mulligan, all laughing their asses off. Burr was livid. “Alexander. Would you care to explain to me why two-thirds of your squad is here. Holding Phillip. Watching me while I sleep like Edward Cullen.”

Hamilton visibly shied away and started tugging nervously at his hair. “Well, I just figured we might need some help sometimes… And it'd be nice if Philip had some uncles…”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Wasn't it just last night that you promised that we would keep Phillip safe and secret. You know why I'm worried about this.”

  


\-----------------------------------------

  


Aaron was concerned. No, not concerned, he was absolutely terrified. After the confrontation with Jefferson, he had rushed home-  _ NO. Not home. Hamilton's apartment. Jesus.  _ He had rushed back to the apartment and practically broke down the door, ignoring Hamilton's annoyed yelling from the living room in favor of running straight for Phillip's crib in the bedroom. Burr was on the verge of tears, entire body shaking with exhaustion and adrenaline and relief, none of which subsided at all as he scooped up Philip and held him close. He didn't even realize he had started to cry until Hamilton spoke up from the doorway.

“Hey Burr, why were you in such a hurry? Is something wro- oh shit, are you crying?”

Burr jumped and quickly turned to hide his face, trying to come off as fine, but his voice was too thick and wavering to pass it off as nothing at all. “No. It's just, been a long day. Jefferson's an ass. Nothing unusual.” 

“Jesus Christ Burr!” Alexander moved in front of Aaron and leaned in closer, seeming to be genuinely concerned. “What did he do?”

Aaron didn't respond and instead took a moment to stare down at Philip and decide how much to tell him. After a few minutes he sighed and set Philip back down in his crib, awake and squirming happily, and turned his eyes back to Hamilton. “Aside from generally being a dick, you mean? He knows something's off. I have to be more careful. This behavior, late nights, endless cups of coffee, being as exhausted and haggard all the time as you are- it made him suspicious and he wants to know why.”

Hamilton stood silent, for once in his nonstop life. He obviously understood the immensity of the situation, and the implications being caught could have on both of their political careers. Aaron sighed and wiped at his red eyes, intending to go catch some sleep on the couch, but he hadn't taken more than one step before Alexander wrapped his arms around him in a brief but strong hug. “Don't worry, Aaron Burr, sir. That bastard will never get close to Philip. Nobody will ever know, we'll keep him safe that way. You get some sleep in bed, I'll take Philip  out so you can rest.” 

“No, leave Philip. I want to hold him.”

Alex's eyes were soft and understanding and all wrong because Alexander fucking Hamilton was supposed to be a nonstop little shit who ruins political ventures at worst, and someone who you tolerate even though they about annoy you to death at best. But here he was cradling a little adorably cooing bundle and gently setting it in Aaron's arms with a smile and looking like the kind of person you might actually want to be around just because.

Burr didn't put up a fight as he was shoved gently toward the bed, simply sitting down and listening to the click of the door meaning Alex was gone. He sat with his back to the headboard and Philip in his lap and smiled, realizing that he must somehow have found truth and comfort in Hamilton's words for once, because the near suffocating fear of being found out had eased into a manageable anxiety.

  


\---------------------------------------------

  


“So tell me why, exactly, you thought it would be a good idea to inform these two about Philip.”

Burr and Hamilton were alone in the bedroom, Burr having hesitantly allowed Laurens to carry Phillip out to the living room while having extracted a promise from Mulligan that he would look and not touch. So Alexander was now sitting across from an irate Aaron, and was rather obviously fishing for a way to talk himself out of this corner. 

Aaron sighed and was about to start telling Hamilton off again, but Alex suddenly looked up with a rather intense and vulnerable expression and began to speak. “Look, Aaron. I know this is a really tough situation, and I honestly don't think we can handle it all on our own. Admitting that feels like I'm sort of a failure, but this is about Philip. If John and Hercules know about him, we can use them as covers for when we can't do something, or they can even watch him when we need a break. Plus, I think that he should have a bigger family than just us… Some people he can go to when he feels like we aren't doing our jobs. Well, more me than you.”

Burr’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Alex laughed self-deprecatingly and sneered. “Isn't it obvious? I'm an awful parent. I thought I could just pick up this kid off the sidewalk and raise it no problem but I've done so many stupid things- OW WHAT THE FUCK AARON!”

Aaron sniffed nonchalantly, as if he hadn't just slapped Alexander across the face, and said “Don't curse so loudly. Philip might hear.”

“Why did you slap me then?” Hamilton asked incredulously.

“Because,” Aaron sighed, “two emotionally charged talks in a week? That's too much, you know, talk less and all.”

Alex scoffed, causing Aaron to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Hey, look. Every parent makes mistakes, especially the first time through. The important thing is that you've never made the same one twice- you're learning really fast.” With the small smile on Alex's face Burr figured he could move on to a more pressing issue. “Now. Let's go make sure your squad isn't making any big mistakes.”

Both men stood, smiling and chuckling, and made their way out into the suspiciously empty living room. There was a moment of confusion, until they heard laughter coming from the kitchen. It was quite a touching scene- Laurens aiding Mulligan in properly holding the child, gently encouraging him to put a warm bottle to Philip's lips filled with translucent brown liquid.  _ Wait… What? OH MY FUCKING STARS AND STRIPES. “ _ WHAT IS THAT LIQUID YOU'RE GIVING MY CHILD!” Burr stormed over and ripped the bottle away, hurrying to prepare one of milk for Philip, who was now wailing plaintively in the arms of an increasingly uncomfortable Mulligan. 

Alex was a bit more calm, simply asking Laurens what was in the bottle.

“Apple juice,” Laurens replied. “He started to cry and we figured he was hungry, but you were still having a little heart to heart, so…”

Burr angrily screwed the lid on the bottle and handed it back to Mulligan, eyeing him distrustfully. “Why would you give a baby juice and not milk. Even Hamilton got that one right. After I screamed a little,” he muttered that last bit to himself

Mulligan ignored the proud grin on Hamilton's face in favor of defending himself. “Well, we didn't know how old he was… Plus, John wanted to give him monster.”

Incredulous eyes were sent to John, who shrugged and laughed sheepishly. “Kids love soda, right?”

Aaron just groaned and sat heavily. “And I thought you were the smart one, Laurens.”

  


\----------------------------------------------------------

  


“Jesus.” Burr plopped down onto the couch beside Hamilton. “How often are we going to have to do this?”  _ This _ being have Laurens and Mulligan over to make messes and inappropriate jokes and general chaos.

Alex shrugged and continued bouncing Philip gently. “I dunno, why? Excited for another visit?”

“God no. I'm not sure I can handle that again. They're worse than you were! Trying to feed Philip solid food, giving him pen caps and coins to play with, almost dropping him every other minute! Not to mention all the sexual innuendos involving you and I.”

Hamilton laughed and shook his head, standing up and heading toward the bedroom with Philip. “What's a childhood without some well-meaning but bumbling uncles with no kids of their own. And they're coming back tomorrow, so you may want to start Mulligan proofing things.  _ Darling.” _

_ “ _ Damn it Alexander.”

“Shh, not around Philip  _ babe!” _

“...You're an ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh John and Hercules, and really everyone so far but Burr, such delightfully hilarious mishaps...


	8. Such a Blunder

“It’s Friday,” Washington announced near the end of a meeting one dreary day, standing up suddenly at his desk and drawing the alarmed attention of the cabinet. He had trailed off in the middle of an aimless hypothetical about banks, and now he was announcing the day of the week. “It's Friday,” he said, “we should all go home early! If I imagine one more disastrous financial scenario, I'm going to need a therapist. Which will in turn become a disastrous financial scenario for my personal bank account. Class dismissed.”

The cabinet members were too stunned to move. They continued to stare at the president where he stood.

Washington rolled his eyes. “I'm serious,” he said. “We all need a break. Use the extra two hours wisely, and I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.”

And so, murmuring and shaking their heads all the while, the men began to stack their papers, push in their desk chairs, and mill out of the room.

Of the large group, only two people had reason to bound out of the office like small children with sugar rushes. _Two more hours,_ they both thought excitedly. _Two more hours with Philip!_ Their child was getting bigger lately, smiling, understanding, growing faster than either of them ever thought a person could grow. They hated leaving Philip with the neighbor girl all day, and would have quit their jobs to care for him if only their jobs weren't of national importance.

_Two more hours watching Philip learn to crawl,_ thought Hamilton.

_Two more hours of listening to Hamilton's bad jokes and Philip’s laugh instead of Washington’s lectures,_ thought Burr.

They were both too giddy to consider that others might notice their rush out of the room. Thomas Jefferson in particular shook his head as he watched them literally make eye contact and giggle as soon as Washington announced the end of the meeting. Obviously something was going on, and the idiots weren't even trying to hide it. So, what was happening? And how could Jefferson use it to advance his own career?

Throwing on his coat, Jefferson smiled to himself. Whatever it was, it was going to be good. He followed the odd couple at a distance until they reached an apartment complex…

\--------------------------------------------------------

“Gooooo Philip! Yes Philip, just like that! You're going to move mountains someday, just put one knee in front of the other!”

Burr laughed. He and Hamilton were sitting on the floor, still in the suits they wore to work, watching as the baby made halfhearted attempts to propel himself across the floor. Philip would fall down occasionally and just lie there, content with his failure, gazing up innocently at his two dads. But Hamilton would not have that. He picked up Philip each time he fell, yelling encouragement. Now that Philip was crawling properly for the first time, Alexander was really losing his shit.

“Hamilton,” Burr urged, putting a hand on his co-parent’s arm, “calm down. You’re going to wake people up.”

“Wake people up?” Hamilton demanded. “What are you talking about? It's six o’clock in the evening!”

“Yes, but it’s midnight in England. You’re yelling so loud you might wake the Brits and start another war.”

“Oh, fudge off.”

“Fudge off?”

“Trying not to swear in front of- Oh my God! Did you see that?”

Hamilton was gaping at the completely still baby. In response to the attention, Philip giggled and dropped down so he was lying on his tummy.

“What?” Burr asked.

“Philip moved like foot while we were talking.”

Burr scoffed. “You’re delusional.”

“No, he did! Look… He was there…” Alexander pointed to a spot on the carpet about a foot away from where Philip was now lying. “And now he’s over here. All while I was distracted, he took maybe two or three steps-”

“You can't even call them steps, Hamilton. He’s barely crawling.”

“So unsupportive. You’re a disgrace of a father, you know that?”

“Oh, we’re giving it the ‘father’ label now?”

Hamilton grinned, proud and a little smug. “Well,” he said, “what else would you call this?”

Just then, they heard a knock at the door.

“I'll get it,” said Burr, thinking it must be Laurens and Mulligan coming to dote over Philip and stir up trouble.

But as soon as he opened the door, he found himself face to face with -

“Thomas fucking Jefferson!” Burr was enraged, stunned. “You… You stalker. You followed us home?”

Thomas smirked. “Us. Home. Such domestic words, and here I was thinking both you and Hamilton would only ever settle down with your careers, and piles of money. May I come in?”

“What? No! Leave, don't ever come b- Hey!”

Jefferson had invited himself inside, pushing past Burr. “Nice place you have here.” He shed his jacket and hung it next to Hamilton’s. “Why did you decide to move in? Hate sex at the office wasn't satisfying enough? Needed a change of attitude and scenery?”

Burr could feel his blood boiling in his veins. Hot, pulsing rage. How could this man waltz into the apartment, shatter the peace so quickly, invade Burr’s personal life with such force? How could anyone be willing to stoop to that level, just to gain some slight political advantage? “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You do live here, don't you?”

“Not- No, I mean, technically no.”

“Ah, and what's that sound I hear?”

The sound was Philip’s distinct wailing, the kind that usually meant his diaper was wet. But Jefferson couldn't know that.

“Birds,” said Aaron.

“Birds?”

“Yes. Hamilton is actually uh, very passionate about birdwatching. There’s a bird feeder on the balcony, and uh, they make the craziest noises. Damn birds.”

As if to punctuate this story, Philip wailed again, even louder than before. Aaron winced and mentally begged Alexander to shut the kid up.

“There’s a baby in your apartment,” said Jefferson, “isn't there?”

Burr watched helplessly as Jefferson turned the corner and walked into the living room, where Hamilton sat on the couch, rocking back and forth like an idiot with Philip cradled in his lap. Hamilton looked up as the two men entered the room. “Turns out the little rascal was just sleepy,” he explained. “Probably tired from all the crawling.”

Jefferson stared.

“You can yell at me later,” Hamilton added, “but please let Philip sleep now.”

Jefferson looked from Hamilton to Philip to Burr, and then back at Hamilton. “I'm seeing it, and I still can't believe it. How have you two managed to keep a child alive for more than five minutes?”

“Well, you see, I'm a terrible father,” Hamilton said, “but Mr. Burr here is great. He’s all uptight, so parenting comes naturally to him.”

“...Right.” Jefferson put his hand on his forehead, and for a second Burr wondered if the Secretary of State was going to pass out on the floor of Hamilton’s apartment. That would have been quite a scenario to explain to Washington.

“Look,” Jefferson said. “I think I know what's going on here. Hamilton, you fell in love with a kid when you went to check out Eliza’s orphanage, didn't you? You took the child home, obviously, but there’s no way you got Eliza’s consent. So this baby is kidnapped. You, Treasury Secretary, decorated war vet, founder of the New York Post, etcetera etcetera Alexander Hamilton, risked your entire career to steal a baby.”

Both Burr and Hamilton were silent, which Jefferson took as a resounding yes. A sinister smile stretched across his face. “Well, this sets up an interesting dynamic. Looks like you partners in crime are going to be agreeing with me a lot more in cabinet meetings.”

Hamilton laughed, but it was nervous and strained. He was evidently beginning to realize his total lack of power. “Why would we agree with you?”

“Because if you don't, Eliza may get word about your bundle of joy here. And I doubt she would be fond of your kidnapping scheme.”

More silence, and Jefferson seemed to decide that his work was finished. He told the two parents to have a lovely evening, and walked to the front hall, where he gathered his coat and left with a soft slam of the door.

Once he was gone, Alexander sighed. “No one would ever believe that a baby crying was a bird, Burr.”

Aaron could feel tears playing at the corners of his eyes. All he could think was that Thomas Jefferson had taken everything away from them, all their beliefs and power, especially Alexander’s, since that man in particular thrived off of opinionated diatribes and disagreeing with everyone he could. All was lost, and there was nothing they could do to change the circumstances.

But Aaron forced a bitter laugh. “It was worth a shot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaron Burr, more like Aaron Bird, am I right? Anyway, I guess we'll see how Hamilton takes to talking less and smiling more...


End file.
